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“Dad?” Peter called out as he walked in the penthouse.
“We're in here kiddo,” Tony replied from the kitchen between fits of laughter.
“What are you both doing home?” Peter asked as he joined his parents in the kitchen.
“Pete, backpack,” Steve reminded him, earning himself an eye roll from his son. “And, we decided to take a day off. Tony, stop eating the cheese.” He gently batted away Tony's hand before wrapping him in his arms to keep his hands away from all the plates and bowls in front of them.
“What're you making? It smells amazing,” Peter asked after picking up the backpack he’d dropped in the middle of the room and setting it in its place.
“We are making some old family favourites,” Tony smiled at Peter from his position locked in Steve’s arms. He detailed what was in each dish behind them – a traditional tomato sauce simmering on the stove, some stuffed chicken wrapped in prosciutto in a baking dish beside it, just waiting to go in the oven, and apple pie Steve had made earlier in the day cooling on the counter further down.
“Are we expecting company or something?” Peter asked.
Tony chuckled. “No, we are not. Just the three of us tonight.”
“Can’t we make a nice dinner on a Friday night without an ulterior motive?” Steve teased.
Peter shook his head on a laugh and Tony managed to extricate himself from Steve’s grip, stealing another cube of mozzarella for good measure. The whole scene was incredibly domestic in a cliché sort of way. Peter wasn’t exactly wrong – they didn’t often go all out with dinners, even if they did insist on having dinner together as a family every night they could. As non-traditional as they could appear to be, their family was close-knit and did truly love spending time together, something both Steve and Tony worried about as Peter grew up. But he still enjoyed spending time with his parents, and his extensive list of honorary aunts and uncles equally. Friday night dinners usually revolved around take-out, so Peter’s question wasn’t completely off-base.
They finished getting everything ready, and set the table after Peter finished a few pieces of homework he had to do. They chatted happily during the meal, everything from the news to school and an upcoming baseball game Steve and Peter were attending together.
“Hey, Pete?” Steve started as they were enjoying the pie he’d made as dessert. “Anything else happen at school this week we should know about?”
He noticed Peter’s movement stutter a fraction before his son looked up at them like nothing was amiss. “No, it’s been a quiet week.”
Steve hummed in answer, grabbing Tony’s hand, his silent plea to let him start the conversation they had both hoped Peter would initiate.
“We got a call from Ms. Watson yesterday, sweetie,” Steve told him gently.
“Oh, come on,” Peter said mostly to himself, leaning back against his chair and curling up on himself.
“Peter, we’re not mad. We just wanna understand.”
“She said she gave you lots of opportunities to hand in your assignment and you said you didn’t care if she failed you,” Tony explained in a voice much calmer than Steve had heard the night before when they’d discussed it. “Pops is right, we aren’t mad, we’re just a bit confused bud. This isn’t like you.”
“I’m still gonna pass the class and it won’t affect anything by the time I have to apply for college,” Peter answered in his most petulant tone, his crossed arms tightening around his chest.
“Again kiddo, not the point. We just wanna know why,” Tony tried again just as calmly, and Steve gave his hand another tight squeeze, knowing how hard it could be for him to keep his cool in such situations.
“You can’t- it won’t make sense to you,” Peter bit back, his frustration oozing into his words.
“Try us,” Steve said calmly.
They waited patiently while Peter seemed to process what he had to say. Steve did feel badly about ambushing his son about school matters this way, but Tony had been right – this wasn’t at all like Peter, and they were worried.
“I had to sit in class and listen to everyone talk about their perfectly normal families and which family members they look like and hereditary genes. Even the other kids with gay parents are at least related to one of their parents, you know?” Peter sighed, letting his arms drop to his lap. “I’m not ashamed of you guys or sad that I’m adopted, it’s just… when we did our family trees before it was pictures on a computer slide show. Now, it’s a deep dive into my family history and it kinda hurt to not know anything about my birth parents, and its hard to explain Pops being 100 years old and not having any living relatives, even if everyone knows… for the first time, I really just felt different and I hated it.”
Steve shot out of his chair and rounded the table to gather Peter into a hug, with Tony right behind him. Peter didn’t even fight them out of holding him like they were doing, as awkward as it was pilled on to the dining room chair.
“You should have told us, Pete,” Steve said, his heart aching for his son. “I’m so sorry you felt that way.”
“I’m not sad I’m adopted or that you’re my parents. It’s so hard to explain. I love you guys-“ Peter cut himself off with what Steve thought might be the beginnings of tears.
Steve pulled back so he could look at Peter. “We know, sweetie. And we love you too, so so much.”
Tony managed to nudge Peter just enough that they could both awkwardly sit on the chair, Steve crouched next to them. They each held one of Peter’s hands and Steve had no doubt Tony felt just as sad as he did about Peter’s admission.
“I know this isn’t the same thing at all, and I can’t speak for Pops, but I know how it sucked to be different in school,” Tony chimed in. “Being the really smart kid, and the really young one at MIT, and the last name. It was hard sometimes. A lot of the time.”
“Yeah, growing up when I did, it wasn’t the same as now in the least but, being the small sick kid wasn’t always easy. And then being a walking science experiment wasn’t much easier in its own way.”
“Can we move this too the couch? My butt is too old for this chair sharing situation,” Tony asked as he extricated himself from the chair and his embrace with his son.
Steve stood, and grabbed Tony’s hand, giving him a kiss for good measure as they made their way to the nearby couch. Peter sat down, leaving room for his parents on either side of him. When Steve took the spot on his right, Peter let himself fall against him, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder.
“One thing that Pops and I did have growing up that is similar to you though is, our families weren’t exactly always traditional looking,” Tony offered when they were all settled.
Peter furrowed his brow looking at Tony. “What do you mean? You both had your parents around.”
“True, but we’ve talked about how your grandpa Howard wasn’t exactly the funnest human to be around,” Tony reminded him.
“Neither was my father,” Steve added. “And my ma died when I was still pretty young, and she wasn’t around much before that ‘cause of her job.”
“Grandma Maria was the same – not her job, but just from being away with Howard a lot. I didn’t really realize it until later but, I always considered Ana and Jarvis more my family than Howard.”
“And Uncle Bucky’s family was there for me that way too.”
“Family isn’t just biology is what you’re trying to say,” Peter added looking at each of them.
“Exactly.” Tony squeezed Peter’s knee and kissed his hair. “I know it’s not the same, since we did know our parents, and we aren’t trying to dismiss your feelings. I don’t want you to think that. Just want you to remember that the people in your family tree might not be related by blood, but that doesn’t mean they love you any less. Or that their impact in your life is any less.”
“I am sure if anything ever happened to you, aunt Tasha might hurt whoever gets to you worse than Dad and I would. And not just because she’s Black Widow,” Steve chuckled. “Dad’s right, kiddo. DNA doesn’t always make family. Those lines on a family tree don’t show just how much someone meant to you or to raising you or to shaping the person you become.”
“Now, if you do want to find out where you came from, that is absolutely valid,” Tony added, Steve nodding along as he was going to ask if it was something they could facilitate. “We will never keep that information from you if you want to find out. Just because your birth parents died doesn’t mean there aren’t ways of finding that out, or some of it at least. The DNA portion is just a tiny part of your origin story though, I promise.”
“My origin story?” Peter laughed. “I’m not a superhero, Dad. That’s yours and Pops’ jobs.”
“And I thank Uncle Thor’s relatives for that every day, Petey Pie.” Tony kissed his forehead again, making Peter laugh some more.
“You get what Dad’s saying though?” Steve asked, squeezing Peter’s shoulder in a side hug.
“Yeah, I do,” Peter nodded, settling back against Steve’s shoulder. “I do love our family, even if it is a bit weird and complicated to explain sometimes. I, um- I had done my whole presentation. I just felt too weird to present it, knowing my answers wouldn’t be like anyone else’s.”
Steve gave Tony a pinched smile over Peter’s head. “Neither of us blames you, kiddo. And I’m sure your teacher would have understood if you’d explained it to her. We just wish you would have told us, instead of us wondering why your teacher called.”
“I didn’t want you thinking… I didn’t want you to hear I didn’t want to make a family tree and think it was because I was ashamed of our family,” Peter reiterated. “Wait, is this why you made all those things for dinner?”
“Yes and no,” Steve admitted with a laugh.
Tony bit back a laugh. “I knew you were going to ask that. When we were talking about it last night, it got us thinking about our backgrounds, and in talking, food came up-“
“That happens a lot with your dad, come to think of it.”
“-and we thought it might be nice to make a home cooked meal. It’d been a while.”
Peter smiled at the thought. “I didn’t realize your mom cooked much, Dad.”
“Well, that proves our point, I guess. Ana used to make that chicken for us, and your grandma made that sauce.”
“And my ma couldn’t bake for shit,” Steve smirked, “so that’s actually Bucky’s mom’s pie recipe. I got lucky that he remembered it.”
“Oh,” Peter replied quietly. “Do you mind if I go email my teacher? I just wanna ask if she’ll let me do my presentation – even if she doesn’t change my grade, I think I want to present it.”
“Yeah bud, go for it,” Steve answered, giving Peter one last hug. “I’m sure she’ll consider it. We can start a movie when you come back.”
Peter got up, and turned to his parents before leaving the room. “I like my origin story a lot, by the way.”